Something There
by scarlet phlame
Summary: During the events of Children of Earth, Ianto walks in on something he wasn't meant to see. This would probably take a huge impact on Janto's relationship if Ianto didn't die the next day. And then wake up in the archives in UNIT as a completely different person, with no memory of Ianto Jones or Jack Harkness. (CoE AU. Janto, with slight mentions of competing Gwack.)
1. Prologue

Summary: During the events of Children of Earth, Ianto sees something he wasn't meant to see. CoE AU.

* * *

Ianto really, really hadn't meant to walk in on the exact moment that could've proven detrimental to his and Jack's relationship. It was a mistake. Things weren't meant to unfold this way. Nevertheless, they did.

"I love you."

Jack. That was Jack's voice.

During to step closer, he peered into the room, leaning forward so they would meet his line of vision. Gwen was standing with one arm folded over the other, and Jack was on one of his knees.

His stomach churned and his vision blurred abruptly as he stumbled back.

"God, I'm really not that good at these things. Look, Gwen, can we just...?"

Feeling sick, he coughed back a sob and froze with his back to the wall, paralyzed with a choking emotion he couldn't quite place. Was this happening? It couldn't be. He was imagining things, the whole children thing was driving him mad.

Maybe being mad was better than facing what was happening here.

Drowning in confusion, he stumbled back outside, the cash in his pockets stiffening the fabric in his pockets. With trembling fingers, he pulled the cash out and watched it flutter onto the road, mind still whirling with what he'd just witnessed.

He should get away, get out right now. It wasn't his business, whatever was happening between Jack and Gwen. He'd known it was happening all this time, yet he still allowed himself to get strung up over his stupid emotions. Jack loved Gwen, not him. Ianto'd seen the CCTV footage of the conversation they'd had just the day Jack had returned.

If it hadn't been for that CCTV footage, he wouldn't have even known where Jack had been in all that time. He told Jack everything. Jack spoke all the time, but never said anything. Never one mentioned that he meant something more to him.

Had Jack been leading him on all this time? Owen had been right – he was just Jack's part–time shag. So what was this? What was he doing with Jack? Jack loved Gwen, he was certain of that now. But why? Had he done something wrong? And what the hell was Gwen doing with Jack? She was married to Rhys. Should he tell Rhys? Did he even have any right?

He stumbled back across the road, wiping at the fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He tripped over his own feet, falling onto the jagged concrete. Breaking his fall with both his hands, he grimaced in pain as the palms of his hands met the road. Mumbling something incoherent, he shoved himself off of the ground and ran across the road.

He was the teaboy. That was why he was here. He was supposed to get them clothes and items and coffee and clean up after their shit. He didn't mean anything to Jack. (He wished Jack didn't mean anything to him.)

Throwing himself into his work, he purchased new clothes for Gwen, Rhys, himself, and Jack. His chest tightened in pain as he selected the new greatcoat, chewing on his lower lip as he selected it from the rack. Trying his best not to notice how buying clothes for Jack seemed to be something of a habit.

"I see we've got a new car outside," he managed, putting on standard smile #2 and walking into the warehouse. It was a smile he'd used a lot after Lisa'd died. "Nice, very smart."

"Where've you been?! We thought you'd got arrested," Jack chuckled. Ianto tried to ignore how happy he and Gwen looked. Found that he couldn't.

"Just buying essentials," he said simply. "Technology's one thing, but let's not forget the creature comforts. Coffee, obviously. Got some do-da," he held up a roll of toilet paper.

"Thank God," Gwen said, swiveling around in her chair and pointing at Ianto, a wide grin spread across her face.

"And more importantly... I didn't know your exact sizes, but I reckon I've got a good eye." he threw each of them a bag of clothing, listening to their exclamations and whoops. He did his best not to look at Jack as he slipped into the new coat.

He meant to ask Jack about everything, but he died the next day.

* * *

_**This is a really cheesy, kind of stupid idea I had earlier, but I wanted to try my hand at writing some Torchwood stuff. Tell me what you think, and please leave a review!**_


	2. Chapter 1

Something There 2

AN: So a few people had questions about the first chapter, which is okay because I shoulda been more clear. It's an AU CoE story... Janto centric. I'm a GwenxRhys shipper (mainly just go get her outta the way, 'though), so there should also be a few mentions of that but it won't be predominant.

* * *

"Work any harder, and I might have to have a cot put in here, John."

John didn't bother to glance up from the file, fingers still sifting through the manilla folders. "I'm almost finished."

Alex chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Head archivist for six months so far, and you've practically lived here half the time." he clicked his tongue and shuffled away. "You should come out sometime. Susan and I are getting drinks tonight. Feel free to join us."

Now John did look up, mainly in surprise. "What do you mean? Tonight?"

"Yeah, I mean tonight."

"Can't. I'm too busy."

"Agh," Alex groaned. "Sometime this year, then?"

"Yes, yes," John mumbled, distracted. Alex breathed out a sigh, shaking his head back and forth like a pendulum, arms crossed against his broad chest.

"All right, then, suit yourself. 'Night."

"Good night," John hummed, moving another paper and pressing it into a folder. Sighing, he straightened himself and headed towards the door. Cracking it open, he watched Alex exit the building in his gray military coat, shaking his head and stepping out once the heavy doors had opened.

He pocketed his car keys, dashing out of the archives and trailing after Alex. Pushing open the massive doors, he carefully stepped outside, a blast of cold night air shoving him. Shading his eyes, he swallowed and watched Alex step into a car and drive off.

He felt guilty for following a fellow employee like this, but he had to know what Alex was up to. And he knew he was up to something.

At first, it'd been vague things, like coming in with extraordinarily messy hair (despite its disorder, it'd still looked nice) and a shirt with a hole in the collar. But then, he'd started seeing bloodstains on his colleague's shoes, on the hem of his sleeve. Little, vague details that would have been overlooked by anyone except him.

Which was fine, and dandy, and he wouldn't have any reason to worry, had Alex been anyone else. But... Alex was Alex. He came to work in a menacing black Ferrari, walked around in a grey WWII coat, and constantly had to run out of work to "go check on this" or "a friend called, a relative is in the hospital, be back in an hour".

He followed Alex for what seemed like hours, until they stopped at a community park. He quickly stopped the car across the road, watching Alex get out with... a gun? He swallowed. He should call 999. He shouldn't go outside. He should not follow Alex.

He stepped out of the car. If I get caught, I'm dead, he told himself.

Jogging across the street, he stepped behind a tree and stole a glance. There was Alex, cautiously looking around in every direction. He swiveled around, pressing his back into the bark of the tree when Alex turned in his direction. He waited until the count of five before he turned back around.

Something streaked across his line of vision. Startled, he jumped back, pressing his back even further into the tree. He heard a loud, animalistic growl, and immediately turned around.

Some kind of man in a blue uniform had pounced on Alex. He watched the scuffle for a moment, not believing what was happening. Alex had fallen on the floor, and was struggling with the man.

But who was the man? Had Alex known he would be here tonight? What was Alex's role in this? Unable to stand still anymore, he immediately jumped into action, tearing the man off of Alex and throwing a punch at his face. The man in the blue clothing fell back with a growl, and John froze in shock.

Its skin glowed positively orange in the streetlight, and its jaw was pulled forward, like a snout. The creatures eyes were shrunken and cold black against pale, wrinkled skin. Its teeth seemed razor sharp. Stunned, he stumbled backwards, breathing heavily.

"What are you?" he gasped.

The creature lashed out at him, and he screamed as it tackled him to the ground. Swinging blindly at its face, he landed one good mark and shoved it off him, hard. Alex dove onto it and held out some sort of device at it, and it let out a howl as waves of electricity surged around it and it fell to the ground motionless.

"What was that?" John panted.

Alex was distracted. "Behind you!"

John turned around at the last second as another creature jumped towards him.

"Ianto!" Alex screamed.

And then the world went black.


	3. Chapter 2

Something There 3

AN: The title is based off of the names of one of the songs from Beauty and the Beast... "There may be something there that wasn't there before."

* * *

"John? John? Mate, are you still alive?"

John groaned. His eyelids felt heavy as lead, almost plastered shut. Rubbing at his eyes, he glanced up from the desk in the archives.

"Everything all right?" That was Jason's voice. Of course. He worked here, didn't he?

"Yeah," John said, frowning. "How did I get down here? Wasn't I... I was..."

"You were the last one here last night." Jason was his best friend and colleague, one he had known for years now. Four, five years? They'd met at a pub, and had gotten off right away. The man was tall and dark-haired, always clad in a cheeky grin.

"Alex was here," John mumbled. "He told me he and Susan were going out... Asked me if I wanted to come. I can't remember anything else."

Jason chuckled. "All right, all right, whatever you say. Look, just hurry up and get home, clean up. It's still early, Manya ought to be 'round here soon. I'll tell her you stepped out to deliver something... or whatever. I dunno. I'm shit at excuses."

John nodded, sighing and standing up, pushing himself away from the desk and glancing around. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he frowned at a sudden sharp pain. His finger found the sore spot, just at the back of his skull, and his brow furrowed even deeper. Was that a bruise? Had he been hit on the back of the head?

He drove home, doing his best to think about what the hell he'd been doing last night.

* * *

Manya was a tall, dark-skinned gorgeous woman with black hair. Although she was very brisk and firm, she was also very kind. John might've even asked her out, had she not been his boss. Well, and she hadn't been married to- who was it? Something Smith?

Technically, she wasn't really his boss, more his manager. He practically lived in the archives, never got up in anyone else's business. Still, no denying the fact he knew an awful lot about UNIT; but just from what he'd read in the archives. The higher-ups were too busy with themselves to get caught up with an archivist, and Martha was really the only one who gave him any orders.

Well, that was one boundary he was never willing to cross, whether she was single or not. Something about having a relationship with his boss- although he wasn't sure what- made him shiver with... anticipation?

One hell of a hit on the head last night, must have been.

"You're late," she reprimanded him, grinning.

John shrugged. "I was here, had to step out."

"Let me guess– you fell asleep in the archives. Hey, mister, don't give me that look. Thomas is a rubbish liar and you know it."

He chuckled, glancing down at his shoes for a moment. "He's the smartest analyst we've ever had here at UNIT, but, when it comes down to it, he can't act for his life."

Manya rolled her eyes. "Honestly, John. All you do is push papers around in the archives. You ought to come 'round, up here, where there's this great thing called light."

"And air," John added.

"And air," Manya agreed.

John shook his head. "Tell me, you've heard of Alex Carter, right? Is he in the building today?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Manya chuckled. "'Course I know him! He's been working here for years!"

John grimaced. "Yeah. Starting to feel as if I'm going mental, sorry, 'course you know him."

Manya's face fell. "Sorry. Your mother, she was..."

"Providence Park, patient. Yeah." suddenly, his shoes were a great item of interest. Manya shook her head.

"I don't know. Why do you ask?"

John shrugged. "I don't remember what happened last night. Thought, well, you know, I fell asleep, but I feel like I've gotten a hangover. And I remember getting in my car and... driving. He was the last one here, 'sides me, thought he might know."

Manya gave him an odd look. "Well... I'll ask if I see him."

"Right. Okay. Well, I'd better get back to work, then," John said, putting on a smile that didn't quite match the mood, and setting back down the archives.

* * *

"Susan, Alex and I are going out to get some drinks, would you like to join us?" Jason asked.

John shook his head. "Sorry. I'm still feeling a bit sick from last night."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm gonna go. I have a life, mind you. And a wife. Hey, that rhymed. Susan's gonna murder me if I'm late again."

John nodded. "Yeah," he said blankly, watching the man walk off.

A few minutes later, he packed up and left for home, still rubbing at the bruise on the back of his head.


	4. Chapter 3

Something There 4

AN: Ok, so, changing character names without a key was apparently not a good move. My bad.

Manya- Martha

John- Ianto

Alex- Jack

I'll have to leave you all confused with the timing, sorry. It might spoil some things. But, don't worry; explanations to come.

* * *

"Alex." John rubbed his eyes and glanced up at the dark-haired man in the WWII coat. "What are you doing here?"

Alex grinned at him, taking a seat on his desk. John scowled and shooed him off, gathering up the papers.

"Alex, I'm not kidding around. These are papers I need to organize by tomorrow. Yvonne will be furious if I don't have them in," he scolded him. John raised his hands up in defeat.

"Hey, sorry. I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to go and get a bite later, have some time off."

John blinked. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

Alex grinned wolfishly. "Maybe. What do you say? There's this great cafe just down the road; you've probably heard of it."

Stunned, he swallowed. "Well... uhm... I've got loads of work to do, and there's the filing- yes, the filing for the... um... things."

"A no would've worked," Alex started, but John intercepted him quickly.

"Although I am free at nine," he said, pausing. "Well, later. Later at nine. Ahem." He let out a chuckle. Then realized what he had just done. He did his best to pass it off as a cough, but he was positive Alex had noticed.

Smiling, Alex move to leave the room, but, just under the doorway, he turned, placing a hand on the frame, and sending a kind grin in John's direction.

"By the way, was that a yes?"

"Yes. Yes," Ianto said, frowning at the repeat of the word. "Nine at the cafe 'cross the road." He watched Alex leave with a sigh, turning back to his work and finding he couldn't think.

Deciding he'd had enough of working nonstop, he left work and went home, took a shower and cleaned up, constantly checking the clock. At eight thirty, he selected a pinstriped black suit with a red shirt underneath and striped tie. Pausing, he rubbed his forehead and glanced in the mirror. He felt like some sort of a giddy, over-excited teenage girlfriend preparing for a date.

He was just setting downstairs to the door when his chest tightened. Coughing, he tensed up in pain and leaned against the rail. He waited for the attack to cease, and slumped down, back to the end of the staircase, panting when it finished.

He'd been having breathing issues for a while now. The doctors had said it was some kind of a virus he'd caught. The breathing issues came every now and then- although, the strange thing was, he couldn't exactly remember when they'd started. They seemed to stretch on and on, like the never-ending sky.

John entered the night, locking the front door behind him. The clouds above his head bled rain as he stepped into his car and drove down the block, stopping at the cafe. Nervously, he fixed his tie and ran a hand through his thick hair that had been dampened by the sudden downpour.

Surveying the cafe, he grinned when he saw Jack sitting at a metal black eating table, a large red and white striped umbrella looming over his head. The man sat with one leg folded over the other, chin propped on one of his hands with one elbow rested on the table and the other arm splayed across its metal surface.

"Hey," he said, since he really couldn't think of anything else to say. He slipped into the seat in front of Alex and clumsily smiled. Alex smiled back.

"Was starting to worry you might've stood me up," he said.

"Never." John picked up a menu, eyes scanning briefly over the words. "What are you getting?"

"Scallop soup. You should try it, it's one of my favorites. New England clam chowder is great, too."

Both men ordered, and John was the first to break the silence.

"Your accent, it's American. 'S that where you're from?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah. Well, sort of, it's kind of complicated. I was born a long way away from here- long ago and far away." John frowned, but didn't press the subject. "How about you?"

John shrugged. "I'm Welsh. Grew up in South Wales."

"And in these stones, horizons sing," Alex quoted.

"You've been to Cardiff, then, I take it?" John asked, raising an eyebrow. Alex nodded in confirmation.

"For a while. Stuck around a few... Well, anyway. It was a great place, 'though."

"Why did you leave, then?" John inquired. He was surprised to see Alex's expression visibly darken.

"I lost someone."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, before their plates were served. John ate quietly, finding the messy way Alex ate a bit comforting- he wasn't exactly sure why. He supposed it was a nice change from being surrounded by people with perfect, impeccable manners, all the time. They chatted for the next couple of hours, making small talk about work and their plans for the rest of the week.

Alex called for the check and had paid, and they'd just approached the road where their cars were parked when Alex suddenly gasped and stumbled back.

"You okay?" John asked, unsure what to do when Alex let out a loud cough.

"Yeah. Great. Can you just... uh, go back to the table, I think I left my credit card there," Alex squeaked.

Confused, John nodded and ran back to the table, scooping up the card.

He turned, about to reprimand Alex for his recklessness.

But Alex was nowhere to be seen.

Confused, he approached their cars. Alex's own car had vanished, but there was no way he could've performed a runner in such a short amount of time.

Could he?


	5. Chapter 4

Something There 5

AN: This is my first time writing a full-length Janto-centric story... don't kill me if it really sucks, please. Although, some concrit would be nice! :)

* * *

For the rest of the next day, all John could think about was Alex. It was fairly embarrassing, under the circumstances that he'd pulled a runner on their dinner. But there was something about Alex, something that reminded him of... he wasn't sure what. But whenever he was by Alex, his heart constricted and he felt as if he would follow the man to the ends of the earth.

It made no sense whatsoever. He'd never had a memory for being particularly attracted to men, and yet he'd jumped at Alex at his first call. It hadn't even crossed his mind what he was doing last night- going on a date with a man. It felt like a habit, like a reflex.

John didn't believe in true love. He didn't believe in love at first sight, either. But what better explanation did he have for what'd happened just last night? Was he meant to go on pretending everything that had happened at the cafe had just been some sort of spur-of-the-moment thing? He felt as if he already knew the man, felt as if questions were pointless.

Shaking his head, he threw himself back into work, doing his best to focus on his task. He was the head archivist of UNIT, and he couldn't allow himself to be distracted. The long day finally ended, with no signs of Alex thus far. (The man seemed to be constantly prowling around the place.)

He was just approaching the men's room when he froze, hearing voices from the inside of the loo. Turning to the side and pressing his back against the wall, he listened.

"Damn it, Martha, what are we supposed to do?" Alex shouted. John jumped when he heard a loud bang from inside of the loo, as if Alex had just punched the wall.

"I don't know, Jack!" he heard Manya retort, snappy.

"What made you remember? We need to find out! He doesn't remember a thing, he's exactly like you when you ended up here!"

Confused by what Alex was saying, he inched slightly closer to the closed door to hear the conversation better.

"Look," Manya was saying, "I know you're concerned about him, Jack. But maybe it's time to face up to the fact that Ianto may be gone."

"I refuse to believe that," Alex responded firmly.

"You've been investigating the alien activity around, yes? And you told me last week you saw a Weevil. There was a special on pterodactyls at a nearby museum. Not only that, but they recently had a special on TV about an organization designed to fight aliens. Something's going on here. And, Jack, I'm sorry to say it, but Ianto might be the center of it."

"The center of it? You're saying he's creating all this?"

"Could be."

"We've been through this before, Martha! When you arrived here, you'd lost your memory, but I was able to bring it back."

"But, Jack, I'm not entirely like Ianto."

"I know. But I'm not giving up on him."

He heard Manya sigh. "Fine. Are you okay?"

Alex let out an abrupt cough. He tried to pass it off as a chuckle, but it just turned into a series of coughs. "No. I keep on slipping out of it, like... like I'm not supposed to be here."

"How long is one... you know?"

"One of them is equal to about... 60 minutes here."

"Shit, Jack, you can't keep on-"

"It'll be worth it when I get Ianto back, okay?"

"This is turning to an obsession. If I knew Ianto, I would have thought he'd want you to move on from him, be happy."

"Yeah, well, you didn't know him. He saw a Weevil the other night, Martha, the actions came to him like instinct."

"Don't tell me you-"

"I retconned him, Martha, don't worry."

"Jack-"

"Look, any second now, I'm gonna blink out of here, so whatever you have to say, spit it out."

Silence. John strained to listen, but Manya had mumbled something soft, and the sound was muffled. Frustrated, John dug his ear further into the door.

Hearing approaching footsteps, he jumped out of the way, ducking behind a raised cavity in the wall. He watched Manya walk past at a brisk pace. Waiting a few more heartbeats until she'd gone, he snuck back towards the loo and cracked open the door.

There was no one in sight.

He closed the door behind him quietly. The entire loo was empty. He busied himself, opening every single stall door and checking everywhere he could think of. There was only one hallway to get to the exit, and John refused to budge from his position.

Taking a seat right by the exit of the bathroom door, he leaned against a fake potted plant.

And waited.


	6. Chapter 5

Something There 6

AN: The next chapter takes place during the same day as this. I do have the first section of this chapter set in a later segment of the day, which should be placed at the end of chapter two. I do jump times a lot, so looking at the little time markers I've put up should hopefully help. If you're confused, just give me a shout! (Or "a type", you can't really shout in FanFiction. Unless you use capital letters, but I'm getting ranty and off-topic.)

* * *

**4:56 PM**

It had been an accident.

Well, for the most part, anyway.

As far as days went, this had to be the strangest of them all. As Ianto lay on the concrete, bleeding out, slowly dying, just one thought ran through his head.

Jack.

Who was Jack?

The world swirled around him, and he heard shouts that seemed so very far away, as he closed his eyes and succumbed to the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness.

Jack...

* * *

**Earlier...**

**7:25 AM**

John was drifting. He was standing in a hallway, the walls pale and curved, like the inside of an oyster. There was a door at the end of the corridor, and he had to make it to the door.

He ran.

His feet pummeled the ground, and breathing laboriously, his fingers latched onto the handle of the door and he pulled. Alex stood in front of him, smiling.

Relief washed over him in waves. He'd found Alex. It would be okay. He outstretched a hand to touch the other man, but suddenly Alex morphed into a metal monster. Backing away in terror, his fingers found the door handle and he ran back down the hall, Alex in swift pursuit.

The ground fell away from him, and he sank lower and lower until he landed in a desk chair at work. Papers piled up in front of him, surrounding him completely. He heard Alex clambering around behind him, but he was so immersed by papers the man couldn't find him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, he was on a merry-go-round with all his other employees arguing as they sat on the horses. He seemed to be viewing the scene from a far distance, and every time someone passed the little ring in a full circle, they turned to stone. He jumped off his seat and ran away, but his employees were stuck and screamed for his help. Eyes seemingly glued to the scene, he watched each of them turn to stone.

Unable to look anymore, he tried to run, but his feet seemed heavy as weights. Digging his heels into the ground, he gritted his teeth. After a while, he looked down to see he was running in infinite circles around a tree. Alex was chasing him, and some dark-haired woman in a black leather jacket and red t-shirt was laughing at him, pointing.

After a while, Alex stopped running and dashed over to the dark-haired woman and kissed her straight on the lips, right in front of him. Fury and jealousy burning in his veins, he stepped over to stop them, to walk away, to do anything, but before he could get anywhere, dark clouds surrounded him and he fell to the ground, choking.

.

John jumped in his seat, glancing around, panicked. He almost banged his head against his desk when he realized he was at work, in the archives. He must've dozed off for a second.

Feeling overwhelmed not only by his dream, but also by what he'd overheard last night, he sighed and ran his hands through his hair, only to discover it in disarray. He straightened his tie and adjusted his collar, then paused and rearranged his chair, smoothing down his shirt as he went.

He glanced up at the clock. It was about seven-thirty, but his office clock was about four minutes late, making it seven twenty-six, to be precise. (John, always the professional.)

Whatever had happened last night, he'd obviously had no rights to go poking around in. But he'd heard the conversation Manya and Alex had had, and he couldn't stop the questions constantly bombarding his mind.

They'd referred to each other as 'Martha' and 'Jack', but what did that mean? The best explanation he'd had for it was that they were together and in some kind of roleplaying game, but even that suggestion was absurd. Not only was Manya married- and happily, too- but she'd also stated she'd had no interest in Jack- _Alex_.

Memories slowly began to creep back into his mind.

_That's right_, he thought. _I... I followed him that night... didn't I?_ Everything was fuzzy... he remembered following Alex to a park... but everything beyond that was too hard, like trying to remember a **dream**._ But I didn't remember... I heard him mention it was taken care of. Did he drug me, is that it?_

That was the best explanation he had. Maybe Manya and Alex were some sort of secret agents, working undercover for the government, and they'd created false identities and false names.

It made about as much sense as Nyan cat did, to be honest.

But it was the best explanation he had.

The weight of the situation then came crashing down on his shoulders.

_What does this mean for me? I like Alex... I don't know why, I can't explain it. I feel like I know him so well... if he's just passing by, I want to grab ahold of him and never let go. I've never felt this way before... Words don't explain it. If I've fallen in love with him at first sight, it doesn't guarantee he has as well. We talked for ages but never really said anything... I barely know who he is. What is this? Is this infatuation? Obsession?_

And then there was the fact that Alex had seemed to know everything about him. _He knows more about me than I know about myself... There's some part of this equation I'm missing. Like I'm putting together a puzzle but I'm missing some pieces._

_What should I do? Should I ask him? We've only been on one date. He has that memory drug... unless that's me being paranoid. I shouldn't know this, should I? It's like... I'm pulling up answers for a math test I haven't studied for, for a segment I don't even know. I'm just an archivist._

He'd read on a website that sometimes children imprinted on some things, and those things stayed in your memory subconsciously. You could accidentally plagiarize something without even knowing, because the memory was in your subconscious. All he could think of was, maybe he'd read some sort of UNIT file on accident (he was an archivist, after all) and it'd stuck.

Trying to keep his slurry of questions at bay, he turned his mind to work, hid behind his papers once more.

* * *

**8:39 AM**

"John."

The Welshman abruptly looked up from his work to see none other than Manya standing under the entryway of the door, her arms crossed.

"Yes?" he blurted, wincing at the blunt abruptness of his words.

"Alex told me to tell you to meet him at the main hallway, you know, just outside the weapons store."

"He couldn't come himself?" John asked, skepticism ringing through his voice, although, inwardly, his mind was whirling with questions, like trying to keep a tornado in a shoe box.

Manya shrugged. "Sorry. He said to come quickly, 'though."

John nodded, standing up and passing her nervously, feeling her gaze burn into his back as he walked.

Whatever was going on here, he was sure he would find out soon.


	7. Chapter 6

Something There 7

AN: I've placed this chapter's AN at the end of the chapter since it has some spoilers for this chapter. That sentence used the word 'chapter' a lot...

* * *

**8:50 AM**

John slowly paced back and forth in the hallway, glancing around every few seconds or so. There was no sign of Alex yet, no sign of finding any explanations to the questions dancing around in his head.

"Hey, sorry! Took me a while to get here."

John glanced up to see Alex, his hair in complete disorder. He leaned a hand against the wall, panting and out of breath. Straightening his posture, John studied him curiously. "You okay?"

Alex nodded vigorously. "Yeah, just had to-" he motioned behind him, winced, then paused. "things to do," he finished uncertainly. John noted that he kept glancing behind him, as if he was expecting something to jump out at him. "Look, it's not really a good time for this, can- can we meet? Maybe in a couple of hours, twelveish at that cafe we went to?"

John's head bobbed in an affirmative. "I... I heard what- what you and Manya were talking about last night in the men's, and-"

Alex smirked. "Ianto Jones, never pictured you as a stalker. I'm sorry, but I can't explain here. Just- Just meet me at the cafe, and I'll tell you everything, okay?"

John opened his mouth to say something, then paused, squeezing his eyes shut. "Look, Alex, I-"

He opened his eyes, and Alex had vanished completely.

* * *

**2:30**

"I'm sorry I took so long," Alex said, panting and letting out a groan as he slid into his seat in the cafe. John blinked, scowling at the other man.

"I've been waiting here for two hours! Couldn't you call me, or something?" he scolded him.

"I couldn't, I really couldn't," Alex sighed, putting his head in his hands and rubbing his face.

"What were you talking about in there, with Manya? What's going on?" John demanded.

"Ianto Jones," Alex smirked. John noted the way his eyes seemed to light up whenever he mentioned Ianto. Whoever Ianto Jones was, he knew that he must mean the world to Alex.

"Who is he? Ianto?" John inquired, feeling like some sort of bratty kid who'd blundered into a toystore and was dropping things meant for others off of the shelves. But he had to know.

"Was," Alex said, his face darkening. "The most fantastic man I've ever met. The best person for me, and I took him for granted... Hell, that's my biggest regret of all. He was perfect, you know. He once told me he could do anything, and even though it was meant as a joke at the time, I believed him. Looked good in a suit, too. He was only in his twenties when he died... and it was my fault."

"You talk about him like he's some sort of god," John joked, although he felt slightly sick.

"Well, he might as well be," Alex chuckled. "Because Ianto Jones is you."

"Sorry?" John blinked.

"I can't explain it," Alex confessed. "Not perfectly, anyway. But... when you died, something happened."

"I'm dead?" the words tasted funny on his tongue. "But I... feel real. I feel alive. I've got a job, I'm... damn it, Alex, I'm not dead!" tears stung his eyes and he wiped them away with the sleeve of his suit jacket.

"I'm sorry," Alex said, glancing down at the table. "I'm so sorry."

"How are you here?" John demanded. "You're lying, I know you are."

"I'm immortal," Alex said simply.

John coughed. Then smiled. Then laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed, until his throat felt sore and he began to cough. "You're mad!"

"I knew it was going to end this way," Alex mumbled.

"And Manya, she knows, too, does she?" John chuckled.

"Ianto, I'm not joking," Alex said, placing a hand over John's. He swatted it away, scowling.

"There's... I can't be dead," he said, but the words didn't feel true. "I'm real. Everything I do, it's real. How long have I been dead?" he couldn't stop himself from saying the last sentence, and as soon as he'd spoken he regretted it, wanting the words back.

"About six months," Alex- no, Jack said. "I'd just left the House of the Dead- you were so brave. I didn't blame you for blaming me for everything."

_"The person I knew I'd find if I came here, to the last night of the House of the Dead. Ianto Jones."_

_"Jack? What?"_

_"Ianto, six months ago you died in my arms. You're a ghost."_

_"No."_

_"I came looking for you. I couldn't resist it."_

John- Ianto- blinked the image away, tears streaming down his face. "That's- that's not-" he stuttered.

"I died," Jack continued. "Long story... got in a fight. Normally, when I die, I end up in the darkness... but I woke up here. I saw you again, Ianto! It was worth it... dying just to see you again. But it's not really you... you're not Ianto."

_"You hid a Cyberman within Torchwood?! And you didn't tell us? What else are you keeping from us?"  
_

_"Like you care. I clear up your shit. No questions asked and that's the way you like it. When did you last ask me anything about my life?"_

"But... I... remember," Ianto forced the words out, unable to look Jack in the eye. "I remember... I came here, looking for a job. My girlfriend, Lisa, she'd just left me... I was heartbroken, I can still feel that heartbreak, Alex. I... don't tell me that's not real."

Jack's eyes seemed to cloud with tears. "It's real. And that's my fault. I'm sorry."

Ianto shook his head, slowly. "Not like this. I... I'm real."

"What sort of jam do you like with your toast in the morning?" Jack asked, quietly. "What's your favorite kind of humor, the last joke you laughed at, what do you like to wake up to? The smell of coffee? Bacon? Do you remember the last time you stapled a piece of paper together and tried to fix the crease from sticking up?"

Ianto didn't answer. His mind was still whirling with questions, and he knew what he would've said if he'd dared to speak. _No_.

But it just didn't make sense. Why would he end up dead in the first place? How had he died? He couldn't even remember it, his own death. And why would he end up here, of all places, running around in circles with Jack chasing him like a dog like in the dream he'd had earlier that day? Why was any of this happening?

He blinked away his tears, his vision blurring and then clearing for a moment. He glanced up at the other man, who was running his hands through his hair and fisting clumps of it. He looked just as put out as Ianto felt. For a moment, a pang of grief stabbed him, but the emotion was gone just as quickly as it had come.

"It's the details. We miss the details in our lives because we move so fast, but details are the most important of all. I suppose details mean nothing in death," Jack spoke softly, pain lacing his choked tone.

"Why?" Ianto managed, quietly. "Why here?"

"I don't know," Jack admitted. The memories were slowly beginning to creep back to Ianto, and he winced as he recalled the incident at the countryside. And then meeting Martha Jones. He blinked, in surprise.

"Is Martha dead?" he asked, a little bit frightened at how painfully calm his voice was. Jack shook his head, a negative answer.

"She's alive. She's in a coma. She woke up here, with no memory of who she was. When I bumped into her, all I had to do was mention the Doctor and she remembered," Jack explained, and Ianto could hear the labor he made to keep his tone neutral. The man seemed to be shattering into pieces in front of him, and there was honestly nothing he could do to fix it, despite his wishes to.

The mention of the Doctor brought a fresh wave of nausea over him, and he clutched at his stomach, curling in on himself slightly as more tears dripped from his eyes. He remembered Jack leaving him, leaving the team, leaving them all, the hurt from when he'd left and the confusion from when he'd finally returned to them. Seeing Gwen and him- and, suddenly, he recalled the dream he'd had just a few hours ago. The woman in the black leather jacket, it had been Gwen.

Jack stirred and moved his hand, placing it over Ianto's. He looked at it blankly.

And then memories hit him like a tidal wave.

Jack, kneeling over, grinning at Gwen, Gwen standing with her arms crossed as she looked down at him.

He immediately retracted his hand and stood up, the metal chair scraping against the concrete ground noisily. He winced at the volume and stumbled towards the road- anywhere, anywhere was better than here.

"Ianto!" Jack leapt out of his chair, and Ianto heard it clatter to the floor. Jack caught him just as he stepped onto the road, grabbing his arm and looking him in the eyes. Ianto struggled to get away from him, to no avail.

"Oh, God. I'm going to be sick," he whispered.

"What have you remembered?" Jack asked, softly.

Tears sprung up in Ianto's eyes. "I hate you! I do... I hate you!"

"Ianto-" Jack started, but Ianto shoved him away, and the older man stumbled onto the concrete, looking aghast.

"Shut up!" Ianto screamed, tears flooding his line of vision. He felt nauseous with emotion, and wanted to collapse right then and there, where he was standing on the road. "Just shut up! I saw you and Gwen in the warehouse- I'm not blind! You were proposing to her! Is that all I am to you, Jack? Just a part-time fuck?!"

Jack approached him, quietly looking up. "What did you see?"

"I saw you, on your knee, telling Gwen you loved her," Ianto whispered, feeling slightly sick.

"So you didn't see the part where I stood up abruptly afterwards, and Gwen whacked me on the arm, said that was the worst rehearsal proposal she'd ever seen and we'd have to work for ages to get it right?" Jack mumbled, resting a hand on Ianto's shoulder.

"Wh- what?" Ianto blinked.

Jack forced a slight smile, through the tears. "I was practicing, Ianto. I was going to propose to you... I asked Gwen for advice, Rhys helped a little although, if you ask me, he doesn't seem like the most romantic bloke ever."

Ianto coughed a little. "Well..." he stuttered, completely unsure of what to say.

"If it wasn't for your death, I would have done it. Things just got... crazy. I couldn't tell you anything, I thought you might hate me for it," Jack continued.

"I thought- I thought-"

"My feelings for Gwen caught up? Never." he shook his head. "I... I can't explain it. I won't deny it, because there's something between us. Best I can identify it is as some sort of a schoolboy crush. But... I... I... you, Ianto Jones, you mean something to me, something real." he reached out and cupped Ianto's cheek, pressing a kiss to his face. Ianto managed a smile, relief flooding through him in waves.

"Thank God," he murmured, pulling Jack closer and angling his face, then settling in for a kiss. They finally pulled away, and although the tension in the air was palpable, Ianto somehow knew, things would be all right.

But then the clock ticked 4:56 PM and a delivery truck came barreling down the road, hitting both men where they stood on the pavement.

And as Ianto Jones lay on the concrete bleeding out, only one thought surfaced.

_Jack_...

* * *

AN: The first flashback is from a radio play called The House of the Dead. It's hard to explain, but basically Ianto was brought back to life by a deatheater called Syriath, and Jack went to see him. You're probably better off looking up an explanation or something, I'm rubbish with summaries.

ther1945- Now I can finally respond to your comment on the first chapter for real now! Lol. When I got your review on how you thought Jack might be talking to Gwen for adive on how to propose to Ianto, I freaked out a little... (Was my idea really THAT obvious?) So, either you're psychic or you're a time traveler who went to the future to read this chapter...

We've still got a lot more story to go through, people. I had to leave it at a cliffhanger, 'though, being the evil betch I am. :)

R&R!


	8. Chapter 7

Something There 8

* * *

"Martha. Please tell me where Jack is," Ianto asked, for what felt like the fifth billionth time since he'd woken up. "I promise I won't get up, I just need to know he's okay." Martha chose to ignore him, instead typing something at a monitor.

He'd woken up about half an hour ago in a hospital, with no clue what was going on. Martha'd explained he and Jack had been hit by a truck and were admitted to the hospital promptly after the accident occurred. Of course, on first mention of Jack, Ianto had demanded to know where the man was. But, to his dismay, Martha had refused to budge, telling him she would let him know where Jack was in a little time.

"I can't tell you, sorry," Martha murmured, after Ianto had repeated his question. She paused, to glance at the man lying in the hospital bed. "Not right now." she reached up to adjust another monitor, and Ianto winced and shifted under the thin covers.

He wore an unflattering hospital gown, a checkered blue-and-white shirt trimmed to just meet his knees. The air in the room was cold and freezing, and he could feel his fingers slowly turning numb, despite the fact that he was covered in a thin, sticky layer of sweat. Almost every inch of him hurt, and the most movement he could make was to lean his head to the side to keep an eye on Martha. He felt awful, more awful than he'd felt after the incident at the countryside.

Letting out a wheezing sigh, he did his best to clear his throat so his words weren't quite as garbled. "Martha. Please tell me," he said, just as she turned to leave the room. "Jack would want me to know."

Martha froze right under the door, and for a moment it looked as if she was considering his request. But she walked right out of the room, leaving Ianto bewildered and confused and alone with his thoughts.

"Sorry, John, but I've got to- Jesus Christ, what are you doing?!" Martha stood at the doorway, watching, aghast, as Ianto pulled a shirt over his head, buttoning up the top two buttons with shaky hands.

"Getting out of here. I've got to go look for Jack," he said, leaning on a nearby metal chair with blue fabric cushioning for support. He glanced around the room, confused. Why would Martha refuse to tell him where Jack was? Didn't she know that Jack had told him? She was smart, she could piece it together.

Shaking his head, he stumbled towards the door, hand digging into the frame as he panted laboriously. He shouldn't be this exhausted. He didn't care, anyway, he had to go find Jack.

Martha grabbed him by the arm, and he stumbled slightly. She looked directly into his eyes. "John. I will tell you where he is eventually, but you need to rest."

"I'm done resting, he's in danger. How long have I been out for?"

"About two or three weeks, give or take."

Ianto paled. "Shit!" his mind was racing with possibilities. "Martha, what is he doing? Why won't you tell me? Please, I'm concerned," Ianto pleaded.

Martha stared at him compassionately. "All right, but you need to rest right now. You're still on the road to recovery, and-"

"Bollocks," Ianto hissed. "I'm fine. Just let me see Jack and I'll do all the resting in the world when I know he's safe."

Martha mumbled something about an over-attached boyfriend and, cursing under her breath, she ran her fingers through her hair. She looked entirely distressed. Ianto didn't know whether or not to take it as a good sign.

"Jack... was in front of you. He must've heard the truck coming, because he pushed you out of the way. He saved you, John. But he was..." her voice trailed off. "You woke up a bit late," she said.

Ianto stared at her impassively. "What?"

"Jack died an hour ago," Martha squeaked.

Ianto felt all the blood drain away from his face. "But- I... it can't be him. He'll wake up, he's Jack."

Martha swallowed and glanced away.

"I want to see him," Ianto said, firmly. "Now."

* * *

"This isn't a good idea," Martha mumbled, as she quietly closed the door behind them and helped Ianto sit in a guest chair next to the bed.

Jack's features were pale and empty in death. It was one of the things that hurt Ianto the most, seeing his lover so... inanimate. A corpse. He was terrified that one day, the Captain wouldn't wake up. He'd just stay expressionless forever.

He reached out a hand and pulled Jack's out of the sheets, giving it a squeeze. His hand was cold. Why was it cold?

"He's dead, John," Martha insisted, sounding exhausted. "I'm sorry."

"He dies but he comes back," Ianto insisted.

"Not this time," Martha said. "Is it possible to die when you're dead?"

Ianto shook his head. "He's fine. He'll wake up, just give him some more time."

"John-"

"Martha, it'll be fine."

"Shit," Martha moaned, sinking into a chair by the door. "John."

"Give me two hours," Ianto said simply.

She stood and left the room. He waited, listening to her retreating footsteps echo through the room. But Jack was coming back. He was.

Wasn't he?

Two hours ticked by, and Ianto had begun to shiver at the freezing temperature in the room. Martha had joined him in the past half hour or so, and was leaning her head against the wall, with her eyes closed in anticipation as the realization began to sink in.

Abruptly, Ianto stepped out of the chair and stumbled back a few feet, gasping in shock and pain. Jack really, really wasn't coming back. Not this time.

"Wake up," he whispered, but the man lying in the bed didn't. "Please wake up." Tears welled up in his eyes. "Wake up, Jack. Please."

He stumbled until his back hit the wall, and he began to hyperventilate. The world seemed to swirl around him, and he was only vaguely aware of Martha's hands guiding him into a chair.

"Why?" he managed to whisper. Martha sat next to him, a hand on his shoulder. He didn't make a move to push her away. He just sat, staring blankly at the inanimate form lying on the bed.

He'd just gotten Jack back, only to lose him again... it was ironic and heartbreaking. It had all ended the same way it'd ended at the House of the Dead... just a box full of dust and an empty heart.

Tears burned behind his eyelids. He squeezed them shut. He was so numb he could barely feel them running down his cheeks, and he pulled up his legs and curled into a ball, trying to protect himself from the horrible pain blossoming in his chest.

It wasn't fair.

Jack was dead. He'd already been dead. How could he have died here? If this was death, where had Jack gone? It seemed the man would always run from him, run to where he couldn't follow. He'd left him, time and time again. Left him in death, left him for the Doctor, and he'd left him now. He had always come back, but Ianto doubted he could return now.

Then again, he'd always known it couldn't have worked out, not here. It would break his heart if Jack kept on killing himself to see him. One death was equal to one hour; he didn't want Jack to suffer when he'd died. He'd wanted him to move on, be happy, find someone else.

But he also knew Jack had lost people, countless people. He'd had his heart broken more than Ianto could even begin to fathom. He remembered how sick he'd felt after Lisa'd died. Was that how Jack had felt when he'd died? Or had he felt worse? His stomach churned as he remembered the events at the House of the Dead, when he'd blamed Jack for everything. _But it wasn't your fault, Jack. I don't think that was entirely me. Syriath might've brought me back, but I could never blame you for my death like that. She wanted to trick you, maybe she was trying to recreate me from your grief. I would never say that to you. I didn't mean it._

He so desperately wanted Jack to wake up so he could give him the closure he needed. He would always love Jack for the rest of forever, but he knew Jack would never be his. He would live on and on, his lifespan reaching through thousands of billions of years, and would be never-ending. He'd eventually be forced to forget him, if it meant moving on.

Ianto was okay with that. He understood. He wanted Jack to forget him, move on, be happy. But he also loved Jack... _Can I be that selfish? Can I try to win him back? Do I let him go? ...When did my life turn into a shitty Korean drama?_

Ianto felt as if he was in the middle of a bad dream he couldn't wake up from. Everything that happened just made him feel sicker and sicker. He felt like an ant trapped in a swirling whirlpool of water, screaming out his terror as he slowly sank into the drain of some never-ending abyss. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He wondered if he would always feel this way. He didn't want to. He was tired now, so tired, and just wanted it all to stop. Death was meant to be closure, but Ianto felt as if his story would never end. In a way, he was as immortal as Jack, running around in circles and doing the same thing. Hoping for something to change when he knew he wouldn't, like reading a book where the main character dies and re-reading it, somehow hoping the words would shapeshift to something else. Something better, something more meaningful.

Right now, he was just background noise on a track stuck on repeat. An old record grinding out the same old tunes, and he wanted it to stop. He wanted to forget everything that'd happened, but just remember Jack.

And then he made a decision. He'd go on, for Jack. It was what the immortal would've wanted for him. He would build a new life, here. Alone. He didn't think he could ever move on from the man who'd stretched his world so he saw the vast magnificence of the universe.

Quite honestly, he didn't have to.


	9. Chapter 8

Something There 9

AN: Time for explanations, as to what exactly is going on with the whole death thing, and "whatever happened to captain Jack"... (Sorry, I'm a huge SJA fan, couldn't help myself.)

Since someone asked, the length of this story should be about... eleven chapters long, counting the Prologue as a chapter. (Two more chapters after this one.) I'm thinking of adding in an epilogue, 'though, so we shall see. :)

* * *

"What do you think happened?" Ianto finally managed, sighing and rubbing his face halfheartedly. He felt heavy, heavy as lead, and his hands would not stop shaking no matter how hard he tried to still them.

Martha shook her head. She looked just about as exhausted as he did, and Ianto realized, startled, that Martha had just lost someone too. She'd lost her friend.

He didn't know all the details of what had happened to Jack when he was gone. He'd explained it, but had been very vague about the details. Time had gone wrong, and he'd lived a whole year that had never been. Martha had been there, they'd met and become close friends. That was all Jack had shared with him, and he felt a slight pang of jealousy and envy, before remembering that Jack was... dead. Really dead.

"Jack was going back, he was checking up on some things... he was trying to find out if there was a way to bring you back, John," Martha mumbled.

Ianto blinked. "John isn't my name," he reprimanded her coldly. "It's Ianto. And I'm dead." He sighed and let out another groan. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Martha nodded. The silence they were sitting in was the noisiest sound he'd ever heard.

She sighed. Shook her head again, ran her fingers through her hair. "He was researching coma patients," she continued slowly. "Apparently everyone in Cardiff in a coma was a face he could recognize in this world's Cardiff." She paused, to let the information sink in.

"I'm dead. I'm not in a coma," Ianto murmured, shaking his head. Martha nodded.

"I'm in a coma, 'though. The death count around here... I think they're waking up."

"But Jack was killing himself to get here, he wasn't in a coma," Ianto said, confused.

"I know. But... I think it might be connected to Syriath somehow. Jack said there was that deatheater at the House of the Dead, and that she brought you back. Is your dad here?" Ianto racked his mind, trying to think.

"I think so," he croaked, burying his face in his hands. It was too much, too much to think about.

Martha nodded gravely. "Maybe when Syriath brought you back, she really did bring you back. You might still be alive, just in a coma."

"Do you think he can save me?" Ianto asked, hoarsely. He didn't want to be dead... he didn't want to be alone. He imagined being trapped here forever. If Martha was in a coma, she was under UNIT's care. Someday, she would vanish, too. And he would be alone again. And just for a moment, he really began to understand how Jack must feel.

_And I've only just lost him... why can't we be together? What universal rule have we broken by wanting to be in love? To grow old together and be happy? It's always going to end the same way... even if I do come back, what happens then? He'll leave me... it would drive him mad to see me age and rot while he stays the same... it would drive me mad. __I don't want him to die for me, either... I want him to be happy. Is that too much to ask for?_

Martha's head slowly shook. "Even if you are in a coma, we'd only have minutes to unfreeze and wake you up before you died again. It would take... well, a miracle."

Ianto sighed. "Yes, it would take a miracle."

_But miracles never happen for me. And they never happen for Jack. I can't count on change, I have to press on. But I'll press on alone._

* * *

Months passed, and Ianto gradually began to show signs of recovery. The bruises faded away from his body, and after four months of steady healing, you could barely tell the man had been in an accident.

Ianto never forgot Jack, visiting his grave whenever he could. He knew Jack was still alive, somewhere, out there. Hopefully, by now, he'd moved on from Ianto, found someone else.

Martha had explained Jack's disappearance like the way the people around town began to disappear. When Jack had died in this world, he'd most likely woken up in the real world. Since he was at the events of The House of the Dead, he might've had a link to Ianto, but the link was severed when he'd passed on in the hospital. It was for the best, Ianto knew. He loved Jack, but it would have broken his heart to see Jack exhausted every day because he would do anything to see him.

Eventually, Martha'd gotten sick. They both knew what it meant- she would die in this world and wake up from her coma in the real world, fine, happy, able to see her husband again. Everything would work out for her, and Ianto was truly happy for her.

And then she'd died, and he was all alone again.

So here he was, standing at a graveyard, black rose in hand and clad in a black-and-white suit, watching them lower her body into the ground.

And then it was over.

And he cried.


	10. Chapter 9

Something There 10

* * *

"Ianto! Ianto, stay with me, stay with me!"

Ianto struggled to grasp ahold of reality, reaching out into the endless darkness, blindly grabbing at whatever support he could find. He was swirling in an empty void of darkness. Just darkness.

And then his world was flooded with light.

He screamed out a gasp, panting heavily. He jerked upright on some sort of table, his arms twitching spasmodically. He grabbed out at the first thing he could find.

Wool. He was touching a wool coat.

With shaking fingers, he examined the coat. It was navy blue, plausibly grey. His gaze flickered up to the man in the coat.

"What?" he whispered. How was this possible? Jack was gone... he'd broken out of the pattern that had brought him to the In-Between world, and therefore when he died he should've ended up in the darkness... not in his world. What was he doing here? How? Was he dreaming?

He hadn't seen Jack for almost two years... two years of his world's time. He'd done his best to piece together a life, but he was never happy. How could he be happy? He'd gone to pubs, tried to talk to someone, but his guilt followed him everywhere, that nagging voice that told him he was cheating on Jack.

All questions in his head melted away as Jack pulled him close to his chest and hugged him tightly. Ianto allowed his eyes to close, soaking up the illusion. If it was just a dream, he didn't care. He wanted everything around them to stop and just live this moment forever. And if he had finally gone mad, at least he had tricked himself into thinking he was with Jack.

"You'll have to put him down unless you want to throttle him to death," someone warned, and Ianto realized it was Martha speaking. It'd been so long since he'd seen her, heard her speak. He'd even forgotten what she'd looked like.

He'd forgotten nearly everything because he'd wanted to. He'd forgotten the sound of Lisa's voice, her laugh, her smile. He'd forgotten Suzie and Tosh and Owen and Gwen had just seemed like vague memories when he tried to put a thought to them. But the one person he'd never forgotten in all that time was Jack. His terrible mannerisms, his chuckle, the way he grinned and could be playful and serious at times. Before, he'd often wondered why anyone would act that way... but now, he knew. It was Jack. He was Jack. He would always be his Jack.

Jack slowly lowered him onto the table, and he shuddered slightly as the bare skin on his back touched down on a metal surface. He felt absolutely sick and nauseous, like he'd just gone on_ The Fireball_ at the fair twenty times in a row. (He and Jack had visited a carnival once, and after four times on that ride, he was sick. Jack too, although he'd blamed the food he'd eaten on it.) He grinned at the memory.

He became aware of a prickling sensation on his arm, and he just managed to glance over his shoulder to see Martha injecting some sort of pinkish liquid into his arm, and everything went black.

* * *

When Ianto finally awoke, his first thought was that he had to get up and go to work at UNIT. But then he became aware of gentle snores coming from the corner of the room, and his breathing slowly quickened. There was a figure, lying asleep and slumped on a chair by the window- a chair he specifically didn't remember owning.

He slipped out of bed, fumbling blindly around in the darkness to try and find the gun he stashed in his drawer. When it wasn't there, he froze, realizing he wasn't in his apartment.

He cursed under his breath, racking his brain and trying to think of what the hell he'd been doing last night. Memories slowly began to creep back to him, and he felt a lump forming in his throat.

The not-so-asleep body on the couch shifted on, and he heard a clatter as Jack groped around on the bedside table, switching the lamp on and turning to face him.

"Hi," Ianto tried, awkwardly. "Sorry if I woke you up-"

"Doesn't matter," Jack said firmly.

A rather noisy silence followed their words, and Ianto sat down on the bed, maneuvering his position so that he could sit facing Jack.

"How did you bring me back?" he blurted, suddenly.

Jack seemed relieved that Ianto had brought up that as a subject; probably because it'd be the easiest to talk about. "A miracle happened," he said, simply.

"Did you use another of those bloody gloves on me?" Ianto scoffed, a bit surprised at how snappy he sounded. He hadn't meant for it to come out that way, and he wanted the words back as soon as he'd said them.

Jack shook his head, slowly. Jesus Christ, the man seemed so depressed. Ianto felt his heart sinking. _What now?_

"You were trapped in the world between death and life," Jack said, in his best unfeeling Captain voice, and Ianto felt his heart sinking even lower by the minute.

"In-between," Ianto blurted. Jack stared at him, confused. "I call it the In-Between," he corrected.

Jack chuckled, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. _What the hell happened to you, Jack?_ "In-between... was hoping for something with a bit of a rhyme. What happened to your Life Knife and Risen Mitten?"

A smirk tugged at Ianto's lips. "I must be losing my touch, sir." he flinched at his unconscious use of the word _sir_. He wasn't exactly sure where he stood in his position at the moment. What was going to happen now? Why was Jack so upset? He swallowed, head feeling slightly heavy.

"Well, you were in the In-Between, the space between worlds," Jack restarted, and Ianto could tell it was just to fill up the gap silence had held in their conversation. "Not quite dead, not quite alive. There wasn't enough time to save you if we tried, you would've just died too quickly. And I didn't want you to end up..." his voice trailed off, and Ianto caught the last few words. _Dead, and in the darkness._

"Anyway," Jack said, clearing his throat. "then a miracle happened. Everyone in the world- they're immortal."

Ianto's face fell. "Immortal?" the word tasted strange on his tongue. Jack's head bobbed up and down. _Yes._

"We can't explain it," Jack said, glancing down at the carpet for a moment. "I have no clue how it's even possible. But... I saw my chance to save you, and I took it. The miracle, it gave us time to bring you back."

Ianto's mouth felt dry. "The miracle?"

Over the next course of an hour, Jack explained everything that'd happened to him since he'd last seen Ianto. It'd only been a week for Jack... what felt like years for Ianto.

The miracle had happened to everyone simultaneously. He explained that the moment he'd heard of the miracle, he jumped at his chance and returned to UNIT, and, with the help of Martha, brought him back. Then Torchwood had been sent to everyone in the world, and he'd quickly erased all mentions of Torchwood everywhere.

"Where are we now?" Ianto wondered.

"America. I had to get you out of the UK, there's too many risks since everyone thinks you're..."

_Dead._

"-but we're going back for Gwen tomorrow," Jack finished. "We need to fix this."

"So you brought me back because you're re-building Torchwood," Ianto added, bitterly. _Nothing more. What did you expect, Jones?_

"Don't say that," Jack said fiercely, standing and sitting on the bed next to Ianto, grabbing his shoulders. "I brought you back because... I... I need you. We need you."

Ianto's face remained passive. "Okay."

And then, before either of them knew what was happening, they were kissing. Ianto leaned into Jack's embrace, lost in the moment. Happy. _How long was I alone for? I didn't even realize how much I missed him..._

"I missed you," Jack whispered.

"Missed you too," Ianto sighed. They fell back on the bed together, and Ianto lay still, running his fingers through Jack's hair.

"I've got to tell you something," Jack said quietly. "After you died... we stopped the 456." Ianto swallowed and nodded, unsure of where this conversation was going. "I stopped the 456." his words came out as barely more than a whisper. "To stop the 456, we had to transmit a signal through a child. Once done, the child would die. And the only child around was Steven."

Ianto opened his mouth to say something, but Jack shushed him.

"I understand if you want to leave now, but, before you do, I just wanted to tell you that I... I..."

Ianto gathered Jack close to his chest. "I'm not going anywhere, cariad. I promise. I promise."

* * *

"Gwen, you are never doing that accent again," Ianto mumbled, as the Welshwoman slipped into the room, along with Jack, the canister, and the rest of the prints needed to break into the building. "Ever," he added, for emphasis.

Gwen let out a low chuckle. "That's exactly what Jack told me." she walked into the other room, loading everything onto the table and sighing.

Jack sauntered over to Ianto, grinning. "Looks like everything's back to normal."

"Yeah," Ianto agreed, with a smirk. "Guess so. Would you like to meet me in the other room after we've broken in?"

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something," Jack said. Ianto rolled his eyes, expecting some sort of banter, but then Jack got down on one knee. Stunned, he watched as the other man took his hand.

"Yes," he blurted.

"I was going to ask," Jack said, surprised.

"Yes," Ianto repeated, pulling Jack back up to his height.

"I had a whole speech and everything, and... there's champagne in the fridge!" Jack stuttered.

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Someone had high hopes."

Jack shrugged, then grinned. "So is that a yes, or-"

"Yes. Yes," Ianto repeated.

"Go take your soap operas elsewhere, some of us are actually working here!" Rex shouted from the other room. Ianto rolled his eyes when he heard Gwen giggle.

"So does that make me Mr. Jones?" Jack asked, grabbing Ianto by the waist and pulling him forwards.

Ianto scowled. "It doesn't sound right. Jack Jones."

"Harkness-Jones, then," Jack suggested.

"Why is your name first?"

"Because I'm the husband."

"I am not the wife," Ianto said, firmly.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll make a great wife."

"LALALA, I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Rex shouted.

Ianto and Jack just grinned at each other. It seemed, for once, that the last threads were finally closing together.

* * *

AN: Piper Emerald, have fun imagining my expression as I wrote that last scene... O_O Or the color of my face...

Please R&R!


	11. Chapter 10

Something There 11

AN: Sorry if I messed up some of the dialogue... Nobody had any transcripts online, unfortunately.

On a totally different note, we've finally reached the end of this story! Sort of short, but sweet, too. Short and sweet. I hope you enjoyed it, thank all of you for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting! You guys are awesome!

This is the final chapter... or is it? Keep your eye out for an epilogue...

* * *

_The day Thou gavest, Lord, is ended_

_The darkness falls at Thy behest_

_To Thee our morning hymns ascended_

_Thy praise shall sanctify our rest_

_We thank Thee that Thy church, unsleeping,_

_While earth rolls onward into light,_

_Through all the world her watch is keeping,_

_And rests not now by day or night._

"I'm sorry, Rex, she was more than a colleague, I'd like to think she was a friend," Charlotte said. Ianto eyed the blonde warily. Something, although he was unsure what, felt a bit... off about her. Shrugging the feeling off and mentally tacking it up as sadness for having lost Esther, he sighed and stepped so he was facing Jack and Rex.

"Thanks. Appreciate it," Rex said, sighing. "Ready?"

"Lucky she got a full service," Jack commented, as they started to walk. "There's ten funerals every hour these days... catching up with the backlog." Ianto gave him a steady glance. Jack used humor to lighten the mood, but sometimes it was uncalled for. Especially when they were talking about the funeral of such a close friend.

"Well, that's made us all feel better!" Rhys exclaimed, shaking his head. Ianto rolled his eyes.

"You'd think if that Blessing was so kind, it could've shown some kind of... grace. Esther died right in front of it. That morphic field could've reached out and saved one last life. Why not?" Gwen wondered.

_Because it was too busy saving Rex_, Ianto thought, grimly. Rex had swapped his blood with Jack's. Ianto had seen him feed his blood to the Blessing, and had nearly gotten shot. If the man hadn't gone for Esther first, he'd likely be as dead as her.

He wondered if Rex blamed himself for Esther's death. It wasn't his fault, of course, but Ianto blamed himself for Lisa's death even though he knew there wasn't anything to be done about it. _I wonder if it's a natural response to the death of someone you love._

"We'll never know. UNIT's sealed up those sites forever. Let that thing stay buried," Jack said firmly. Ianto agreed with him silently, keeping up the pace with him and slipping his hand into the immortal's.

"Yeah. What about you three, this Torchwood team? You reunited or what? Say no, please," Rex teased.

"Are you staying, Gwen?" Ianto asked, turning his head to face the Welshwoman. She grinned at him.

"Are you staying?"

"Do you want me to stay?" Jack asked.

"Please say no," Rhys said.

"Heh," Rex chuckled. His phone buzzed, and he dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone in one quick movement. "Oh, boy. Whoa, whoa, whoa."

"Anything wrong?" Jack inquired.

"Eh, it's about Noah," Rex said, staring at his phone. "You know, the analyst that died with Shapiro? They just retrieved his software from the explosion. Good thing is, he told me his password, because it's the same place I used to go for donuts, and his last job was to look for that leak."

The phone abruptly blared, and, startled, Ianto glanced over his shoulder, alarmed to see the words 'Charlotte Will' written in large letters across the screen. He glanced up at the blonde who was now exiting down the hallway.

"What is it? What's it say?" he heard Gwen ask, but he'd already begun to run, chasing after the figure darting down the hallway.

"Charlotte!" he screamed, his face red. "Charlotte! CHARLOTTE!"

"Shit," he heard Rex exclaim.

"Charlotte!" Ianto repeated, moving to pull out his gun.

And then Charlotte turned around and shot him three times in the chest.

Gwen screamed at the top of her lungs as he collapsed to the ground, world spinning around him. Shouts echoed around the room as Jack pulled out his gun and shot Charlotte once in the forehead, shouting at everyone to clear the area.

"Oh, NO! Come on, nooo! No! Not after everything he's gone through, NO!" Gwen shrieked.

"Ianto," Jack gasped.

All Ianto could do was stare up at him in horror and mouth one word.

"No."

His eyes flickered shut and he fell away from the world, slipping into darkness. He was drowning in the endless substance, plucking frantically at something to hold onto. And then, he saw a sliver of light peeking at him through the darkness. He felt himself float towards it, as if suspended in air, and then-

"Haaaah!" he screamed, gasping in as much air as he could. Terrified and unsure of where he was, he grabbed out at the nearest object he could find. Pain blossomed in his chest and he let out another gasp, whimpering.

His vision blurred and when it cleared, he realized Jack was crying- but had now stopped and was staring at him, shocked. "What?" the older man gasped.

"What?" Gwen deadpanned, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"What?" Rex asked.

Ianto's fingers flew to the buttons of his shirt, and when he looked down, he saw the three bullet wounds heal almost instantly.

"What?" he whispered. "Jack, what the hell happened to me?"

FIN


	12. Epilogue

Something There 12

AN: Yep... here's the epilogue! Thanks for sticking around this far... and thanks for reading!

P.S. I've already got a new book up in the works, it's called 'Thief' and it's basically a TimeTravel Janto book that has a canon-compliant solution for CoE... worth a look? (puppy dog eyes) No, but really, I'd really appreciate it if you looked at it. Heh.

* * *

It rained on their wedding day.

Normally, rain on a wedding day was a pretty bad thing. Come hell and high water, and people would still go through with outdoor marriages... unless it rained.

Ianto and Jack really didn't give a shit.

* * *

_Four hours ago_

"They did it," Jack said, beaming.

Ianto glanced up from his sandwich, confused. "What?"

Jack threw a newspaper down on the counter, and Ianto picked it up, reading the large, screaming font on the paper.

'Gay Marriage Legalized in California'

"Wow," Ianto finally managed, speechless. "That's..."

Jack nodded. "I know."

"So... what now?" Ianto wondered. "Are we going to... I mean, we already have a civil partnership, and..." his voice trailed off and he frowned.

Jack looked exasperated with him. "Does any of this even matter to you?" he muttered, picking up his backpack and strapping it over his shoulders. "Gotta dash. See you later." he pressed a kiss to Ianto's cheek and Ianto squeezed his lover's hand, before letting it fall to the side.

He squinted at the fine text on the paper, a myriad of emotions running through his head.

Labels.

There were so many labels surrounding their relationship. Partners... lovers... boyfriends... there were so many different names for what they had with each other.

But spouse... husband... those words sent a shudder down his spine. Sparked up some sort of emotion Ianto wasn't quite able to place his finger on.

Gwen, Rhys, Anwen, and her mother had all moved to California, longing for some change. So had Jack and Ianto. America was very nice, but Ianto often missed Britain and its customs. He missed the great buildings and the mix of the old and contemporary buildings (although he certainly didn't miss the lack of air conditioning in the old structures).

America was fast. Everything seemed to move so fast here that he was sure he'd missed so many things because of the speed he'd been going.

Pushing his thoughts away, he decided to give Gwen a visit.

* * *

"Ianto! What a surprise!" Gwen beamed, ushering the Welshman in. Ianto gave her a smile and took off his shoes, setting them just outside the doorway next to the welcome mat. "Sit down, sit down," she insisted, shooing him into a brown leather couch. "I'll go get the tea started."

He sat, glancing around Gwen's flat. It was quaint, small, cozy. Had a nice homey feel to it. He regarded a couple of black socks lying on the couch. Magazines lay scattered across the table, with a bag of half-eaten chips lying on top of the mess.

On the other side of the room, there was a small circular table with a blue vase with sunflowers in it. Next to the vase sat three small remotes, all lined up neatly. His eyes roamed the rest of the room.

It reminded him of his and Jack's house. Ianto was very neat and tidy, whereas Jack was a complete slob. The eternal mix of cleanliness and disorder that he so frequently saw in his flat reflected here.

Gwen grinned at him, placing a tray with two cups of tea and a kettle on the table. She pushed away the magazine and the bag of chips to make room for the tray, then took a seat next to him. Ianto picked up a cup, taking a slow sip from it. He brought it away from his lips and set it back on the table.

"Do you think I should marry Jack?" he blurted.

Gwen looked at him in surprise. "Sorry?"

"Well, they legalized it this morning, and he seemed really excited about it..." Ianto's voice trailed off. "Do you think he wants to marry me? I mean..."

Gwen frowned. "Sorry, just give me a second."

She leaned over, grabbed one of the magazines on the table, brushed off a couple of crumbs, then rolled it up and whacked Ianto in the arm with it. He jumped backwards, hand flying up to his arm.

"Ow!" he said. "That hurt!"

"Good," Gwen said, tossing the magazine back on the table and dusting her hands off. "I'm hoping I knocked some sense into you."

Ianto stared at her, aghast. "What?"

Gwen chuckled. "You two are so enraptured with each other, I think it's beginning to affect your vision. Can't you see, you fool? You love him, and he loves you."

Ianto blinked, surprised by Gwen's bluntness and the truth of her words. He'd never heard anybody say so out loud... but it was true.

He hung his head. "I guess so, Gwen. I just... I've never done this before."

Gwen sighed and put an arm around his shoulder, looking him in the eye. "Want me to give you some advice?"

Ianto half-shrugged, half-nodded.

"When Rhys proposed to me, I was really surprised," Gwen admitted. "Shocked. But, Ianto, it was worth it. It's one thing going around in public, introducing him as my boyfriend. People look at the two of you, and think, 'ah, well, they can't last'. But when you say 'husband', they look at you differently. And I'm not saying marrying him was just for that. It's the little things too. I can't explain it, but... well, I suppose it's a way of saying 'I love you'. And not just between yourselves, but... between everyone."

Ianto swallowed.

"So, here's the plan," Gwen said.

* * *

Jack was doing paperwork.

He was literally doing paperwork. Wasn't scanning over it, or skipping paragraphs. He was honestly, truly, doing paperwork for the first time in forever.

And then Ianto burst into his office.

He froze, mid-scribble. Then glanced up and groaned.

"I was doing paperwork!"

"Good," Ianto said, panting, bent over, hands on his knees.

"I was really doing it! I swear! I wasn't scanning it, I was actually doing paperwork!" he babbled. "Like a real office employee!"

"Well, good, 'cause you're gonna be doing some paperwork later," Ianto mumbled.

Jack studied him curiously. "...Yan, I don't mean to be rude, but what are you doing in my office?"

"Are you gonna propose to me?" Ianto asked, leaning against the door.

Jack stared at him. "Me? To you? Wh- I was waiting for you to propose."

"Good. Let's go get married," Ianto said, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him towards the door.

"Wha- I haven't finished my paperwork," Jack said.

Ianto grabbed Jack by the shoulders and forced him to look directly in his eyes. "Jack Harkness. I am asking you to marry me. Yes or no?"

"I-"

"I mean, we've already got a civil partnership, but... I can't explain it. It would just feel... right."

"Ianto-"

"I honestly don't care who's who, I just want to marry you. Wow, that sounds strange to say out loud."

"Ianto-"

"Look, Jack, I just-"

"Ianto!" Jack yelled. Ianto froze in mid-rant.

A moment of silence passed, and then a grin spread over Jack's face.

"What do you think?" he asked, smiling.

* * *

So here they were.

Two men, two immortal men, getting married in t-shirts and trousers. Two men getting married in the middle of a downpour, with just Gwen and her family watching. Two men, in the middle of a wedding ceremony, just two more people in a line of dozens of other couples.

And, yeah, the wind was coarse and rough. The rain was pummeling them like hail. The world seemed to be throwing everything it could at them.

But they wouldn't budge.

And when they kissed, their first kiss as a married couple, Ianto knew that everything had changed for them.

"I love you," Jack whispered in his ear, as he pulled away.

"I love you too," Ianto whispered back.

And as the world spun around them, they stood suspended in its wake.


End file.
